


changing variables

by dragonmage27



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Post-Canon, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 00:19:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 14,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11024625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonmage27/pseuds/dragonmage27
Summary: A collection of snippets that are not quite nothing, but not enough to be something.





	1. medical snippet 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dawnofthursday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnofthursday/gifts).



Honestly it was a little embarrassing, to say the least. Damen--not to boast--has always been a virile, active young man. He had a string of lovers, none who were left unsatisfied until he had his heart swiftly stolen away by Jokaste. 

And just as it was swiftly trampled by her. 

He didn’t understand what Kastor could offer her that he couldn’t, but catching them in bed together had taken his heart and stomped it into a thousand pieces. But he couldn’t lose her. Not when they had already built a life together--a perfect apartment designed to her every specificity, not to forget  _ the ring _ . 

She had cried to him that it was a drunken mistake, and that he had to forgive her. And he tried. They stayed together, but in these last few weeks, they had argued more than they dined at the same table. Kastor had left the city, which helped. But living with Jokaste didn’t bring him the same light that it used to. She would wake up in his arms, and his morning glory would sing, but every time they tried to get intimate, his erection would not last. 

To say Damen was worried was an understatement. 

He loved sex with her, but he could tell that she had been left more than unsatisfied with his performance, and he needed to find a solution, hence him undergoing the embarrassing act of visiting his doctor for  _ erectile dysfunction _ . He was twenty-eight, not eighty-two! 

But Dr. de Vere had seen him for years, and been always professional and clinical with all his medical needs, so Damen felt certain that this was the right choice. He rubbed his palm against his thigh as he waited for the nurse to call him from the waiting room. 

“Mr. Akielos?” 

“Yes!” He leapt to his feet and followed the nurse--Jord--as they went through the routine screening of temperature, blood pressure, height, and weight. 

“Now, what brings you in today?” 

Damen hesitated. “I would much rather talk to Dr. de Vere about this in person,” he confessed. 

Jord nodded, understanding. “Very well. You can wait right here for Dr. de Vere. He’ll be in shortly.” He paused. “Actually, I’m not certain if the front desk informed you, but Dr. Aleron de Vere has been on leave, getting ready for retirement. His son has been taking over all of his appointments for him. Is that alright?” 

Damen’s mind shorted. What. “Uh,” he uttered. “It’s fine,” he managed eventually. This was not the first complaint he wanted to present to a new physician, but he was sure Dr. de Vere the father wouldn’t leave his patients to his son unless he trusted him implicitly. 

Jord gave him a brief smile, and exited, leaving Damen in the room to wait. 

It wasn’t long before he heard a knock on the door, and the new Dr. de Vere stepped in. He was young and handsome with neatly trimmed blonde hair, and the same blue eyes as his father, except behind a pair of thick black frames. He smiled courteously. “Mr. Damianos Akielos? Pleasure to meet you, I’m Dr. Auguste de Vere.” 

Damen shook his hand, noting the solid handshake. “Damen, please.” 

Dr. de Vere took a seat on the stool before him and asked, “So Damen, what brings you in today?” 

“You see, I’ve been having a problem.” Damen paused. Auguste leaned in to listen, which didn’t really make it better. “With my performance.” Damen gestured just slightly.

Auguste leaned back, and nodded emphatically. “I see. And when did this start?” 

“Two weeks ago.” 

“Were there any events around that time you may recall that could have triggered this?” 

Damen bit his lip. “Well actually, I caught my girlfriend sleeping with my brother.” 

Auguste, to his professionalism, stayed silent. 

“I don’t want to end it though, but we’ve been arguing, and the fact that I can’t,” Damen gestured, “you know, also causes more fights. I’m just hoping there’s nothing wrong with me.” 

“First off, I want to express that I’m sorry this has happened to you. We’ll definitely try to sort this problem out.” Auguste looked to say something else, but was interrupted by a sudden knock on the door. “I’m sorry, we have a student volunteer, and he’s been helping us move things around the exam rooms. Do you mind if he pops in for a quick two seconds? That way we won’t have any interruptions during the physical exam.” 

Damen nodded. “Sure.” 

Auguste swiveled around in his stool to open the door, and in walked the most attractive man Damen had ever laid eyes on. Long blonde hair tied back, with loose strands framing his face; he had a most beautiful blue eyes, that seemed to be staring at Damen as much as he was staring back. Then he ducked his head, murmured a quick apology and walked over to the corner to pick up a box. Damen noticed because his head had followed his movement, especially as he bent down, his ass not very well hidden in those form-fitting pants.

He walked back out of the room, and Damen was still staring at the closed door. Dr. de Vere cleared his throat, and Damen closed his mouth. 

“Actually Dr. de Vere.” Damen glanced down at his crotch. “I think I’m cured.” Damen looked dreamily at the doorway, and said in a forlorn voice, “Please prescribe me more of  _ that _ .” 

The doctor’s ever present smile looked a little forced. Damen tried to grin, perhaps his joke fell a little flat. Two seconds later, another knock and the man returned, possibly for the second box. 

Dr. de Vere said, “Mr. Akielos, let me introduce you to our volunteer, Laurent de Vere. Also my little brother. Laurent, if you don’t mind, would you help walk Mr. Akielos over to the labs suite later?” His voice was suddenly a lot less warm than before. “For his  _ much needed _ STD testing.” 

Shit. 


	2. medical snippet 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unrelated to medical snippet 1

Nikandros dropped his head back against the metal post for possibly the third time tonight. Damen wondered if he should go get his head checked out. He might need the doctors to take a look at him. Damen would have suggested it except Nikandros directed another glare at him because he knew exactly what Damen was going to say. 

“Once again, I would like to reiterate that this is a bad idea.”

Damen ignored his friend and said, “It’s been heard.” 

“Also before it gets suggested, I am not about to willingly injure myself so you can rush me to the emergency room and flirt with the cute doctor.” 

Damen looked at Nikandros. “You think he’s cute, too?” 

Nikandros groaned. “I swear, I’m just going to drive off and leave you here.” 

Damen crossed his arms and said calmly, “That’s the point Nik. I don’t want you here when he finally comes out, he’ll feel attacked.” 

Nikandros looked up at the sky in defeat and muttered, “Because I’m sure the doctor felt so intimidated by us when he was verbally ripping us to shreds five hours ago on the hospital floor.” Nikandros opened the door to their police vehicle and hopped in. “Last chance, you can still save yourself.” 

Damen put his hand on the hood of the car and leaned down, “Go home Nik. I’ll be fine. I’m the one carrying the gun.” 

“You have a weakness and it begins with blonde hair and ends with blue eyes. Don’t blame me when he blows you off and you end up flat on your back humiliated.” 

Damen raised his brow. “That’s the goal. I could do without the humiliation, that’s maybe third date territory.” 

Nikandros snarled, shifted gears and drove off to Damen’s laughter. Damen had no doubts that Nikandros would drive back around in an hour if Damen still hasn’t messaged him about ascertaining a particular date because that was just the way of their friendship. Nikandros always expressed extreme distaste for Damen’s ideas, but then went through with them anyway.

That’s how they both ended up at the police academy. 

Nikandros had good timing though, because Damen could see the yellow head emerging from the doors of the emergency room now. He wasn’t wearing his scrubs and white coat anymore, but was instead dressed in a dark sweater and slacks. He was stunning. 

Damen knew he was standing in the path towards the parking garage, and as expected, Dr. Laurent de Vere was walking right towards him. He had a tired look on his face--no doubt after such a long day of work. 

As he got closer and saw Damen illuminated under the street light, the look on his face turned sour. He tried to walk right past Damen, so Damen stepped up in front of him. 

Laurent pursed his lips into a look of distaste. “Officer,” he said icily. “Here to second-guess my medical opinion once more?” 

Damen bowed his head slightly. “No. I want to sincerely apologize for undermining your judgement. You made the right call to arrest the father for abuse. Nikandos and I had not realized the father’s story conflicted with the child’s injuries. I’m sorry I argued with you at the hospital before your peers.” 

Laurent narrowed his eyes, perhaps trying to see if Damen was serious, or simply presenting a farce. 

“I know you were angry on behalf of the child, and that’s what I, an officer of the law, want as well. For him to be safe and protected. So thank you for being alert, and informing us.” Damen could see that his words were getting through to the young doctor. Child abuse was something easily overlooked, so Damen was sincere in his apology and grateful that Laurent did not let anything slip. “Please, let me buy you a drink, as my apology.” 

Laurent had stopped looking like a defensive animal stuck in attack mode, but he said with a wary tone, “I cannot tell if this is a sincere gesture, or a ploy for a date.” 

“This is sincerely my apology, Doctor. Although I will happily consider it a date if you would like me to.” Damen would be lying if he said he waited three hours outside the hospital without hopes that this evening would take a different, happier turn. 

“So, officer,” Laurent started, and Damen really liked the way he said “officer.” Focus, Damen. “You use taxpayers’ money to ask people out during work hours?” 

“I’ve been off duty since we booked in Guion. I’m done for the day.”

Laurent took a quick glance at his watch. “That was three hours ago. You really don’t have anything better to do than stand around waiting for me in your uniform?” 

“I thought you liked the uniform.” Damen’s lip twitched when Laurent’s face flushed just the slightest under the glow of the yellow lamp. He felt pleased that he was not wrong when he noticed Laurent’s eyes lingering at the hospital. With less keen eyes and if Damen wasn’t looking for any sign that Laurent reciprocated his feelings, he would have missed it--but Laurent was betrayed by his fair skin. “So, drinks?” 

After what felt like a long drawn-out silence, Laurent said, “I don’t drink. But you may take me out to dinner.” 

“I know just the place.” Damen hadn’t missed the fact that Laurent didn’t deny it being a date. He sent that pre-drafted text to Nikandros to have him help with arranging a candlelit table for two at  _ Makedon’s _ , and picking up with flowers. Nikandros would probably spit in his drink, but he would go along with it either way. 


	3. mafia au

“So, what’s going on between you and Damianos of Akielos?”

The slight hesitation as Laurent brought his glass of water to his lips was almost imperceptible, except to the keen eyes of Auguste, who was clearly waiting for it. Laurent smoothly continued to take a drink to wash down his bite of dinner, as Auguste smirked, happy to have caught his brother unaware.

“He is a pest.” Laurent set his glass down with a scowl.

“He is buying you coffee.”

He was. Among other small gifts, including flowers that were probably wilting in a jar in his office. The boss of the Akielon family was surprisingly a romantic. And had the remarkable ability to render his large size to be unintimidating, even though Laurent knew the name _Damianos of Akielos_ could strike fear into the hearts of the bravest men.

“He’s been hanging around your college like a smitten puppy.”

Laurent wondered which of his bodyguards is reporting to Auguste. Possibly all of them, but that was to be expected. He picked them to be loyal to the family and Auguste was the boss. But his bet was on Jord.

“Does he know who you are?”

“Does the boss of the Akielon family know if I’m the younger brother of Auguste de Vere, the boss of the other rival crime family in the city?” Laurent asked flatly. “Would you buy his right hand, Nikandros, coffee, if you knew it was him?”

Auguste raised a brow. “Nikandros doesn’t look like you.”

“He believes I’m a student at the college.” Laurent pressed a finger to his lip and pondered. “Or, he hasn’t given any signs that he knows who I am.”

Auguste looked at him almost fondly, because he knew that Laurent liked the game of cat and mouse. Especially when he was both the cat and the trap. “Very well. You will inform me if he continues to bother you. Should I do something about this?”

Laurent knew he let the silence of his reply drag on too long when Auguste’s mouth opened slightly and an incredulous look came onto his face.

“You like him back!” Auguste exclaimed. “That’s the only reason why you would let him around you.”

“He is not,” Laurent paused to dab at his mouth with a napkin, “Hard on the eyes.”

“But he is hard somewhere else,” Auguste teased, with a playful smirk. He raised his glass of wine towards Laurent in a mocking toast. Then his face turned serious. “Let me know if I need to send someone to kill him.”

Laurent lifted his own glass and allowed it to _clink_ against his brother’s. The tinkle of crystal resonated in the room. “No need. I would do it myself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a few more ideas for this, but we'll see


	4. mafia au 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the change in rating. This is a continuation of mafia au but can be read on its own 
> 
> Tags: mob boss Damen, dom Damen, light d/s, light orgasm denial, smut

“What do you think of the view?” Damen murmured into Laurent’s exposed neck. He breathed in deep, the scent intoxicating. No matter how many times Damen got a taste, he couldn’t get enough. And he knew that in the morning, with the lingering smell of sex trapped between them, entangled in the sheets, there would be the kind of drug that no amount of money could buy.

“You have some sick fantasies,” Laurent gasped out. Damen gave a vindictive thrust and the sound that it drew from Laurent’s lips made Damen want to never let him leave. He’s certainly thought about it before. Having Laurent waiting for him in his penthouse, laying naked in his sheets, stirring awake at the sound of Damen’s return. Laurent would have dinner prepared, and they would dine together, sharing wine and easy conversation as they overlooked their city.

Like they were doing now, although Damen had Laurent naked, spread-eagle pressed against the glass, as Damen thrust deep within him.

Laurent’s clothes were haphazardly tossed around the suite, Damen having stripped each and every layer off Laurent like the unwrapping of a most exquisite gift. Damen was still dressed to the nines in his dark tuxedo, only unzipping enough to pull out his cock and push it deep within Laurent.

He liked the way they looked, their faint reflection against the glass with a background of city lights in the distance. Damen with his dark coloring and black clothes, pressed up against Laurent, with his gold hair and fair skin. He liked the way Laurent let him push him into the glass, wrap his hand around Laurent’s weeping cock, as he matched his strokes with each thrust. He liked sliding the delicate silk of his suit against the Laurent’s bare skin and watching Laurent shudder. Laurent was completely exposed, no more layers of clothing to hide behind, no more shying away or keeping secrets.

Laurent was starting to sag, the pleasure overtaking his ability to stand. Damen shifted, thrusting deeper, his arm moving across Laurent’s chest to hold him up. His fingers grasped for a nipple, teasing, tugging until Laurent squirmed in his arms, gasping; the sensation was too much.

Damen could tell Laurent was close. He was panting with an open mouth, rocking his hips back and forth, rubbing his cock against Damen’s hand and straining for his release. It was too soon, Damen didn’t want it to end. Laurent would hate him for this, but Damen loved that too. He shifted his grip, and squeezed at the base of Laurent’s cock, at the same time that Laurent shouted, “No!”

He struggled in Damen’s arms, but Damen held tight, even as he thrashed about.

“Shh,” Damen hushed. He stroked the hand that was on Laurent’s chest up and down, soothing, calming. But his lower hand did not let go. He continued thrusting, dragging his cock against Laurent’s prostate as Laurent sobbed from the overwhelming pleasure. “You said you didn’t want to think. So stop thinking,” he whispered into Laurent’s ear. “And trust me.”

Laurent was breathing hard now, his body wrought with tension as he pressed his hips back to take Damen in deeper. Laurent reached up to fist at Damen’s hair and Damen welcomed the tug. He was growing close. But he needed more. He stopped playing with nipple and released the abused nub, drawing out a small whine from Laurent. Damen smiled.

He trailed his hand up, sweeping across sharp collarbones, past the delicate neck, so fragile in his grasp, and continued up until he grabbed hold of Laurent’s jaw, stilling his head. Keeping a firm hold on his chin, Damen stuck three fingers into Laurent’s mouth.

After the initial shock that stilled and quieted him, with a few slow thrusts to coax him along, Laurent began to suck.

The heat and wetness of Laurent’s mouth made Damen groan. Of all their intimate acts so far, this has been one Laurent steadily refused to perform. Damen didn’t take offense, everyone had their reasons, and Laurent had not refused when Damen wanted to suck him regardless. The noises of pleasure he made were music to Damen’s ears.

Similar to now—the soft moaning, the sound of sucking, of slapping skin, their heavy breathing made the room feel too empty and too small at the same time. Damen could see his city, but all he could feel was Laurent, in his arms, around his cock. Laurent was tight—he was always tight every time Damen took him. The sounds he made, the taste of him, the sight of his fair skin flushed and bruised from Damen’s touch fueled his fantasies on the days they couldn’t meet.

Damen wanted to paint him with his come. He wanted to take photos of Laurent splayed out on his sheets, his hair spread around his head like a halo, with those blue eyes peering up at him through come-splattered lashes.

Damen was close. He continued his thrusts, drawing out just slow enough to make Laurent push his hip back to chase his length. He wanted Laurent to clench on emptiness and miss his cock, need it, crave it. He slammed in deep, angled towards Laurent’s sweet spot until he saw stars. Laurent panted, Damen’s fingers on his tongue, covered in spit, forgotten. Laurent’s only thought would be of Damen taking him, completely, forever. _Mine_.

Damen wanted them to come together, to reach climax, to feel the crash of pleasure at the same time. To realize that only they could provide each other with such feelings. He wanted to ruin Laurent for anyone else, so Laurent would only ever want him. Just as the wave of pleasure crested over, Damen let go of Laurent’s aching hard cock, and gave it two quick strokes. “Come for me,” he said and bit down on the smooth arch of Laurent’s neck.

Laurent cried out as he was finally given over to his release, his come streaking across the panes of glass. Perhaps Damen had yelled too. He couldn’t hear anything over the ringing noise of pleasure as he emptied himself deep within Laurent. Painting his hole with Damen’s mark. His claim.

For a brief moment, they held each other, their hearts pounding as one, both coming down from the high. And then Laurent shifted, trying to catch his bearings.

Damen released Laurent and gently pulled out, careful not to hurt him while he was still sensitive. Laurent took a stumble before he collapsed on the floor. He leaned against the glass, tired but sated, the beginning quirk of a smile on his lips.

Damen sat down on the floor beside him, and placed a hand over Laurent’s bare thigh. Laurent glanced at it, and Damen knew what he saw. His hand was large and dark against Laurent’s pale skin, but its presence felt right. It wasn’t a possessive hold, but an anchoring one. To bring Laurent back to the reality that Damen was here; would always be here.

Laurent reached over for his discarded undershirt and didn’t put it back on. To Damen’s surprise, he instead leaned over to clean Damen, before wiping his come off his chest. Then, he turned around, forcing Damen to lift his hand, and wiped behind as well. Damen couldn’t look away. Laurent’s hole was dripping with his come and clenching unwittingly, clearly feeling empty without Damen’s cock to fill it.

Damen smiled. That shirt was ruined. He could acquire Laurent’s measurements and easily have a full wardrobe delivered to his building by morning, but that shirt now carried the remnants of their lovemaking. Damen was going to make Laurent go home wearing that shirt.

Laurent stood up, and Damen’s eyes followed the miles of bare legs. He had just found his release, but he still wanted to run his hands up and down them again, press gentle kisses up towards the soft skin of his inner thigh, and then between.

Laurent was looking down at him with an exasperated fond look on his face. He began walking towards Damen’s large master bed. “I’m hungry,” he announced, and threw himself onto the bed. His yellow hair and milky skin was a complimentary contrast to Damen’s dark, silk sheets. 

Damen followed him, feeling indulgent. He said, “We just had dinner.” Despite his words, Damen was already looking for his phone. He had live-in staff that would be able to procure whatever he needed within minutes.

Laurent twisted in the sheets to face Damen. “I just had a very long workout,” he said with a straight face.

Damen’s lips twitched. Indeed they did.

Laurent plopped his head back down onto the bed, rubbing his face against the pillow. Damen smiled because Laurent had landed on Damen’s side of the bed, and Damen wondered if Laurent found his scent comforting.

“Alright, let me go make a call and get us food.”

Damen walked into the kitchen, where he remembered Laurent had impatiently pulled his phone and keys out of hand, before initiating their first kiss. Damen smiled at the way Laurent had gone on his toes to reach, one hand around Damen’s bowtie, the other reaching for his hair to pull him down. His lips had been sweet, like the wine they had drank during dinner. In all their previous encounters, Laurent had refused to drink, but perhaps he had needed that small amount of liquid courage. 

As Damen made the call for strawberries and champagne to be brought up, he recalled pressing Laurent up against the large refrigerator after that kiss, and it inspiring him to fuck Laurent against the glass.

When Damen quietly padded back to the bed, Laurent was still lying on his stomach, his face buried into Damen’s pillow. Damen smiled, he must have worn him out. Damen took the quiet moment to observe the smooth lines of Laurent’s naked body on his bed. He wondered if Laurent could be persuaded to stay in bed the whole day tomorrow. He could easily cancel all of his appointments but Laurent would probably say he had to work. Damen grimaced, he was too independent and prideful, working two jobs while earning his degree. If he would agree, Damen could easily pay for all of his expenses to keep him by his side. But he knew Laurent would refuse—it had taken Damen two weeks to persuade him to join him at tonight’s function.

Damen finally pulled his eyes away from Laurent and noticed the drawer of his bedside table was slightly ajar. He quietly pushed it close with his knee. He kept one of his guns in there for easy access, as well as a few reports that he had yet to shred or lock away. He wouldn’t want Laurent—the little nerd—to grow bored and rifle around looking for things to read. To Laurent, Damen was an upstanding citizen and private businessman, and that’s all he needed to know. Laurent studied social work and helped abused kids in his spare time—Damen didn’t want to scare him away.

Damen sat down on the edge of the bed and ran a hand down the groove of Laurent’s back, pausing to rest it on his lower back. Laurent turned around, realizing Damen had returned and Damen leaned down and kissed him on the forehead.

Laurent’s face flushed, which was adorable, considering the much more explicit act they had just performed. Laurent was odd like this, always so shy at displays of affection and easily surprised by something as gentle or delicate as a kiss. It made Damen want to do it all the time, every time, until it became natural for Laurent to want it and expect it.

He also wanted round two, but that could wait. Even until morning because Damen would be happy to just hold Laurent in his arms tonight. He had made sure there was no bus heading back towards Laurent’s part of town—one part of their arrangement was Laurent staunchly refusing to let Damen drive him home. He explained that getting out of a fancy car was just begging for trouble in his neighborhood, and Damen respected his wishes, even if it meant he had to pull some strings to ensure Laurent stayed overnight.

That was also de Vere territory, and Damen didn’t need them to start asking questions. He didn’t want them to know Damianos of Akielos might just have a weakness.

There was a knock on the door. Their food was here. Damen brushed his nose against Laurent’s shoulder, and whispered, “I’ll be right back.”

Laurent looked at him, and said, “I’ll be here.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I finally wrote smut. I hope it was alright. 
> 
> I have more snippets from this au planned, but if you are eager for more mafia smut, Cynthia wrote two lovely snippets on tumblr and they are way better than anything I can do. So go enjoy: [here](http://americancupsofbritishtea.tumblr.com/post/158130157949/mafia-au) and [here](http://americancupsofbritishtea.tumblr.com/post/158360561959/mafia-au-2) :)


	5. damen/laurent/nikandros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags: post-summer palace, Damen/Laurent/Nikandros, smut, light bondage, blindfolds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday Cynthia!! Thank you for being my best friend and Captive Prince buddy. Since you basically live in Ios and I'm stuck up in Arles, apparently the only present I can gift to you is a few hundred words of smut. Enjoy!

Laurent had his hands tied back against the headboard, his chiton pushed up to his waist. The ties were tight enough that when he tugged, it didn’t give. His eyes were blindfolded, and Laurent could only rely on his other senses. The room was quiet, and Laurent couldn’t tell if Damen was still there.

Laurent heard footsteps approach, and suddenly the bed dipped from the weight of another person. Laurent instinctively flinched at the sudden movement, but a soothing hand landed on his bare thigh, a comforting touch. Without his eyes, Laurent was hyperaware of every sword callous on the hand as it stroked up and along his inner thigh. He could feel the warmth of the body on the bed with him, and smell the heady musk he’s associated with his lover.  

“Damen,” Laurent whispered, leaning into the hand that lightly touched his face.

“Not quite.”  

It wasn’t Damen. Laurent recoiled away from the hand, and tried to move away but was held too tightly by the ties. It was a deep voice with accented Veretian, familiar, but not Damen. “Nikandros,” Laurent said steely.

“Your majesty,” Nikandros murmured. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when we wrestle. I look at you in the same light,” Nikandros said, his voice right next to Laurent’s ear. He was very close and Laurent could feel his breath blowing across his skin.

Laurent couldn’t deny feeling nothing when Nikandros had him flat on the ground, hovering above him with a confident grin so alike Damen, yet so different as well, holding down his arms while Laurent struggled beneath him. Nikandros insisted on the Akielon tradition of being stripped down and covered in oil, even if Laurent were clothed, and it did nothing to hide his impressive physique. Laurent shouldn’t be greedy, he already had Damianos, but Laurent was the King of Vere, and Veretians lavished in abundance of all vices.  

Laurent said calmly, “I will yell and Damen will come in and strike you down.”

Nikandros stilled the hand that was on Laurent’s thigh. “I have no doubt. But I will not betray Damen.” His fingers brushed across Laurent’s collarbone, and Laurent thrashed against him. He had his desires—carnal temptations that latched hold, making him question what it would be like with another lover, how different it would be now that Laurent was not afraid of lovemaking, but Laurent would not betray Damen. Damen was worth more to him than any fleeting fancy.

“Laurent,” came the familiar voice of Damen. Just his voice alone was a calming presence. He was here, in the room.

“Damen?” Laurent whispered out, his voice soft.

“You asked me what would please me,” was Damen’s reply. He was distant, on the far end of the room.

“This,” Laurent repeated, “would please you?” Damen and Nikandros were the best of friends since childhood. They trained together, fought together, lead armies together. They shared everything, from slaves to battlefield victories. It would not be a stretch to think they would share a lover too.

“Giving you everything you want pleases me.” There was a deep aroused richness to Damen’s voice that Laurent could recognize.

It seemed Damen knew him better than he knew himself. Perhaps Damen had unvoiced desires of his own, which included inviting another into their bed.

With Damen’s wishes made clear, Laurent relaxed against the ties, and this time when Nikandros pressed his lips to the underside of Laurent’s jaw, and Laurent bared his neck to give him further access. Nikandros had a thicker beard than Damen and it scratched against his fair skin. Laurent gasped when Nikandros sucked at a sensitive spot on his neck.

Nikandros’ hand reached between his legs, coaxing him awake with soft, delicate strokes that Laurent hadn’t realized were capable from the large man. Damen had surprised him just the same in that aspect. Nikandros’ mouth moved south, painting a damp streak across his chest before landing on his nipple. With another few licks, Nikandros took it into his mouth. He sucked it fervently, while his free hand began teasing at the other nipple, squeezing it between his fingers, drawing out the pleasure from Laurent, making his body strain against the ties. Laurent panted, his body torn between the unfamiliar touch of his kyros and the pleasure it awoke.

Suddenly the blindfold was ripped off from his eyes. Laurent blinked at the sudden brightness, narrow his focus on Damen, sitting at the chair at the foot of their bed like it was his throne. He sat with his legs spread wide apart, his gaze unwavering. He had a hand beneath his leather skirt, stroking his cock as he watched best friend pleasure his lover.

Nikandros moved up, his hand catching hold of Laurent’s face and leaning in. Damen was still watching with dark, lidded eyes. When Laurent turned to lock lips with his kyros, he kept his eyes open and his gaze fixed on Damen.


	6. mafia au 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ask and ye shall receive~~ More mafia au! This is a continuation from the earlier parts.

“I know what you’re doing,” Laurent said as he swirled the wine in his glass, watching as the ruby liquid kissed the high lip before pooling back down. Auguste had dragged him to yet another ridiculous dinner, this time at one of the most prominent restaurants in the city. Reservations were for one year out, and even then you couldn’t get a table unless you knew the city commissioner, or the mayor, or lived on one of the mansions on the hill.

Of course, Auguste had all three, and enough connections to clear out the restaurant so they were the only ones in the entire dining room.

The hallmark of this particular restaurant was their infamous tableside filet mignon served up by the executive chef, who was currently doing so with flair and finesse. What Laurent _didn’t_ miss were the broad shoulders hidden by a black chef’s coat, his towering height, and unmistakable skin tone.

Laurent had the courtesy to wait until the chef departed back to the kitchen to repeat himself. “I know what you’re doing.”

Auguste was cutting into his rare steak with aristocratic elegance. He paused and asked calmly, “Do you?”

Laurent leaned back with casual petulance and twirled his steak knife, gesturing to the room. Their bodyguards lined the edge of the restaurant, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Laurent that, besides their most loyal retainers, Auguste had, rather swiftly, rotated out his guards until most of them had a few key characteristics.

“Did you open a casting call for big, buff, and dark-skinned? It hasn’t gone unnoticed that my driver now looks oddly familiar to a particular muscular Isthiman porn star.”  

Auguste raised a fine brow— _and how would you know_ _that, my baby brother_ —and Laurent scowled.

“Why are you parading muscular, dark men in front of me?” asked Laurent, crossing his arms.

Auguste paused after taking a sip of his wine and frowned at Laurent. “You know why.”

“You said you wouldn’t get involved.” Laurent never wanted to sound like the sulky younger brother, but Auguste was becoming intrusive. One of his assigned guards followed him too close, which led to an awkward improvised story about this brawny thirty-five year old man returning to school for his social work degree and Laurent was assigned to show him around when Damen showed up on campus to surprise him.

“That was until I realized you were still entertaining him!” Auguste reached into his suit jacket and slapped something down onto the table. Photos.

Damen holding the door open for him as they walked into an exclusive restaurant with his hand possessively on Laurent’s lower back.

At Damen’s rooftop pool—Laurent was lying on a lounge chair and Damen could be seen doing backstrokes behind him. It must’ve been taken from another skyscraper nearby.

Laurent napping on Damen’s shoulder. Damen had his arm around him and was looking down at him with a fond look. It seemed like it was taken during one of their walks around the botanical gardens, but Laurent couldn’t remember which time he had rested his head against Damen.

There was a photo of Laurent holding out a skewer of grilled meat to Damen who had his mouth open mid-capture. He looked ridiculous.

Another photo of Laurent walking on campus with Damen next to him carrying his books.

The last photo was taken from afar and was not of them explicitly, but was clearly Damen’s Bugatti parked on the side of the road. The windows were steamed up and Laurent’s hands could be seen pressed up against the glass. Laurent remembered that night.

Laurent kept his face very blank, not revealing any shock or anger over Auguste having him tailed. This was the brother who planted half a lecture hall worth of fake students when Laurent attended college during his first semester because a rather unrelenting classmate pestered Laurent continuously hoping for a date. Eventually Jord had whisked the boy away for a ‘talk’ and Laurent hadn’t seen him around campus since.

Laurent picked up the photo of him and Damen on the park bench, and asked with a mild voice, “Can I keep this?”

Auguste threw his hands up in the air, and Laurent smiled to himself. Auguste was the poster-boy for being unflappable and composed. Laurent prided himself on being the only one capable of breaking that façade.

“Laurent.”

Laurent put down his fork and knife, feeling the change in mood. He looked up from his plate to face Auguste. “Are you worried about me, Auguste?”

“I know better than to think you need me to take care of you, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m always worried about you. You’re my little brother, worrying is my job,” said Auguste, a faint smile on his lips.

Laurent is reminded of the time their parents died, handing over the reigns of their large empire to a young Auguste, barely out of college. At the funeral, surrounded by their parents’ most inner circle, Laurent had slipped his tiny hand into Auguste’s, trying to blink back the tears. Auguste squeezed it tight, even as his eyes remained dry, and had pressed Laurent close to his leg, so that he could spill those tears on his pants without being seen—even back then Auguste was shielding him from the world.

Auguste swirled his wine glass on the table, not looking at Laurent. He said, “Damianos is a dangerous man.”

Laurent looked at photos on the table and then back to Auguste. “He doesn’t know who I am. If he found out I belong to Vere and had been lying to him for months, I doubt he would treat me so kindly.”

“Not everyone who shows you kindness has good intentions.”

“I know.”

 _We can only trust each other._ Auguste had said those words when Laurent came to him after their uncle got drunk and tried to get Laurent to go with him into an empty room. As swiftly as Auguste handled every problem Laurent ever faced, Auguste took care of that, too. Laurent closed his eyes, and he could still hear the muffled cries, the smell of wet cement, and the bright lights of construction amidst the dark of night.

The Regent of Vere had been a powerful face of the family when Auguste was still trying to gain his foothold after their parents’ death, and then had disappeared mysteriously overnight. There were rumors, of empty bank accounts, a disappearing plane, but those were all empty whispers. Auguste took care of everything, leaving no traces, not even the construction crew who once worked there. Laurent would be the only one who knew what lay beneath the cement at Chastillon Plaza. His uncle was blood, but he was not family.

Laurent watched Auguste move to walk behind his chair and stayed relaxed. Laurent did not like people standing behind him, but Auguste was the rare exception. His brother leaned down to wrap his arms around Laurent’s shoulders, pressing his face to Laurent’s hair. Laurent relaxed in his brother’s embrace. It had been a long time since they thought of their uncle.

Auguste whispered, “I don’t know why you’re choosing Damianos of Akielos. You can have anyone you want.”

Laurent stayed silent.

“Does he make you happy?”

Did he? Laurent looked at the photos on the table. He had fallen asleep on Damen’s shoulder, oblivious to his surroundings. Another had Laurent lounged on the sundeck, without a knife or gun on him. Rarely did he let his guard down, but with Damen he felt safe, even if Damen was the most dangerous person in the room.

Laurent was smiling in that photo where he was feeding Damen. Damen had teased him about his grilling skills, but when Laurent threateningly pointed the meat skewer at him, Damen opened his mouth without question. It had been the gathering in which Damen introduced him to his second-in-command Nikandros, even if Damen had told him it was just a barbecue among close friends. Laurent had noted the familiar faces of highly ranked Akielos family members: Pallas, their rising star enforcer; ‘Old General’ Makedon who had challenged Laurent to a drinking competition and then drunkenly pet him on the head an hour later. Laurent couldn’t recall that actually happening and he wasn’t sure he believed Damen when he insisted that it had.

Finally, Laurent said, “I’ve been investigating him. He’s brought me to his penthouse in Marlas, his summer home in Ios. He lowers his guard around me. I’ve been looking into his books.”

Auguste’s arms tighten around him even more. “That’s a risk I don’t want you to take. For what purpose?”

“I want to take a look at his ledgers.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know if he makes me happy.” Laurent didn’t know if this was a means to an end, but he needed to rationalize his behavior. He has never done anything simply for his own happiness—that is, if happiness was the warmth he felt when Damen held him in his arms.

“I think I do,” Auguste answered after a moment, and kissed him on the forehead before pulling away. He returned to his seat, took another look at the photos and sighed. He gestured around the room. “Are you really certain that no one else will do? You can have any one of them. All of them.”

Laurent raised his brow. Well, if it pleased Auguste, Laurent was always willing to compromise. “Very well. I shall take all of them. Send them to my apartment tomorrow night.”

Laurent watched as Auguste blinked, and said, “What?” He repeated, “All of them?”

“Yes. Since you offered,” Laurent replied. He waited until Auguste shook his head and took a sip of his wine before he continued, “Damianos keeps me going for hours, so I think if I were going to replace him, I would have to fuck all of them in one night.”

Auguste, as expected, choked and sputtered in response, spitting his wine back into his glass. Laurent smiled at him sweetly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much thanks to Cynthia for beta-ing this super fast so I could get this out to you guys. I'm getting to the panic part of my studying so I will probably need to shut off my wifi, slow down my writing and focus on studying. WISH ME LUCK GUYS. MY CAREER DEPENDS ON THIS. *SOB*


	7. laurent and his damen dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From an [anon ask on tumblr](http://sarabelium.tumblr.com/post/164139122973/imagine-a-cp-au-where-laurent-is-attracted-to), "Imagine a cp au where Laurent is attracted to Damen but too stubborn to admit it while they constantly argue with each other... but he ends up having some heated dreams about this giant animal-barbarian aka his eternal appreciation of 'strenght and honor' ;D"

Damen goes to Vere to negotiate trade deals, and the second Veretian prince is a force to be reckoned, with his silver tongue and charming face. Anything Damen proposes gets immediately shot down, and they are constantly arguing, leaving Damen frustrated and fuming and constantly sparring with his retinue in the training grounds to get his frustrations out.   
  
Little does he know, Auguste had chided Laurent for being so combative with the future King of Akielos, and Laurent tried to find Damen to perhaps  _not_  apologize, but make amends, but stops at the entrance of the training grounds to see Damen half naked, wrestling with his guards, and Laurent just  _stares_.   
  
Damen’s sweaty muscles glistening as he holds down the other man, pressing him into the dirt.   
  
Laurent has a lot of dreams for the next few days of this giant animal, who speaks fluent Veretian and can keep up with Laurent’s wit–albeit Laurent wins of course. But he’s also so strong and honorable and the castle is full of whispers of the Akielon crown prince’s legendary virility.   
  
After one particular banquet in which Akielon  _griva_ was introduced to the Veretian court, Laurent wakes up in Damen’s bed. It was a frequent dream that he had, in which they would skip past any reconciliation they needed, and Damen would kiss Laurent with such heady fervor that he could feel the sensations down to his toes and wake up hard and wanting. This morning seem similar. His head hurt, but that’s how most of his fantasies began. A drunken night that led to more.

Damen was looking down at him, with a certain wary look in his eyes, and Laurent smiled softly, because Damen’s curls always looked so untameable, and Laurent wanted to slide his fingers between them. So he did.

Damen made a noise of surprise, and Laurent pushed himself up to plant his lips on Damen’s. “Usually we’d already be in the middle of it,” Laurent murmured, rolling himself on top of Damen.

Instinctively, like in all of his dreams, Damen’s hands landed on his hips, warm and heavy over his clothes. “Middle of what?” Damen breathed out.

Laurent ignored his senseless talking—they were in a dream, Damen didn’t need an explanation for that. Annoying, always talking about honor and wanting details into Laurent’s plans. In his dreams, Damen only ever needed to moan out his name, and grunt with his thrusts. Laurent leaned down to nip at Damen’s collarbone, the same time that his hand wandered to slide up Damen’s thigh beneath the chiton.

“Wait—wait!” Damen was saying. With the same strength that got Laurent harder than ever, Damen flipped him around. Laurent’s back hit the bed, knocking a breath out of him. Damen was gripped his wrists tightly and looming over him.

“What?” Laurent snapped. And then he froze when he realized that Damen’s grip was tight, a very realistic hold that didn’t have the fog of dreams overlying it. There was something painful poking into Laurent’s hip. Damen’s royal badge. The pain was very real.

It was not a dream. Laurent’s eyes widened, and he could tell when Damen realized something was wrong. Damen released his hands.

“Your highness…” Damen said slowly.

Laurent pushed him off, and sat up in the bed. They were in Damianos’ rooms. He remembered arguing with Damen the night before. Angrily drinking something from his cups. And then nothing.

“Do you…dream of us?”

Laurent refused to look at him. He should leave. It would be early enough in the morning with no servants in the halls. He could always threaten them to keep quiet. Auguste couldn’t hear about this.

Damen’s hand landed on his shoulder, and with a soft move, turned Laurent so he was forced to face Damen again in the bed. Damen was looking at him without any mockery. Instead, he looked rather bashful. Damen’s hand shifted, so they cradled the side of Laurent’s face gently.

“I would not be opposed to exploring these dreams of yours. Because I must confess you are a frequent visitor of mine as well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally forgot I had written this until it popped up on my dash again. It's not a full fic but posting it anyway so I can keep track of my own writing. Life's been so crazy I'm forgetting what fics I'm working on. Why am I not more organized? Next up, my grindr AU for the capri bang, and then hopefully more mafia au!


	8. The Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smaurent on tumblr: The best part of an Auguste Lives AU is the fact that Auguste can escort Laurent down the aisle at Laurent & Damen’s wedding ☺️

The wedding was a union like no other. Vere and Akielos ending centuries of feuding with a solution as simple as a child’s bedtime story. The warrior king rendered hopelessly defenseless at the face of a beauty whose looks were only rivaled by his intelligence. A tale of courtship that would spread through legend, of how two lovers defied their forefather’s ambitions and rewrote history.

The Akielon who lowered himself to no other would kneel before his lover’s King, and ask for the Prince’s hand in marriage.

And the Veretian King would accord his most beloved brother _Delfeur_ as a wedding gift. A land between two rival nations, now a symbol of their union.

The wedding would symbolize the beginning of a time of peace. Dignitaries from the farthest reaches of both kingdoms showed up en masse in hopes for a seat at the ceremony. The Empress of Vask and the King of Patras showed their support with extravagant gifts sent along their envoys.

Everything was gold, and blue, and red. The golden lion of Akielos trimmed in red, laid out beside the Prince’s Starburst blue. With respect for both kingdoms, the Prince would be wed at Delfeur amongst the Veretian people before the ceremony continued at Kingsmeet for Akielos.  

The Council would preside over the ceremony, and King of Akielos stood before them on the dais, powerful and imposing, cloaked in traditional Akielon robes. He kept his gaze on the heavy doors, ignoring the people sitting in wait. He only had eyes for one.

The bells chimed, the hall quieted. The doors swung open.

The Prince of Vere walked in, a glittering figure of gold, from his golden hair to his crown, to his golden clothes. His hand was laid upon the arm of the King of Vere, who paled in comparison to his brother’s resplendence. Together they walked down the aisle, taking their steps through the rose-petal trail.  The King of Vere kept his gaze on his brother. His beloved little brother who only gazed ahead, into the eyes of his lover.

At the dais, the King of Vere would take Laurent of Vere’s hand, and pass it into the awaiting hand of Damianos of Akielos.

And then together, hand in hand, they would step forward before the awaiting Council and recite their vows.


	9. snow and hot chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For itakoaya, who casually mentioned….”do you think Laurent would introduce Damen to hot chocolate?” 
> 
>  
> 
> _Laurent led them into one of the inner courtyards. When one of the guards held open the entranceway and a gust of snow entered the palace, Damen stopped walking, shivering. “I hope this plan doesn’t involve me exiting through that door.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Laurent continued his steady stride, amusement in his voice as he said, “My big, strong Akielon king. Afraid of ice.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to dawnofthursday for the beta-ing, all errors are stll mine

* * *

“We should have seen to the Akielon council first,” Damen grumbled, barely able to keep his words from trembling. The cold seemed to be biting into his very core. He was wrapped up in numerous furs and Laurent had assured him that roaring fires were in every fireplace in the palace at Arles. Outside an unforgiving storm of snow and cold fought against the palace walls, and despite the many fires, Damen could feel the chill creeping down to his bones with every passing of the large, Veretian windows.

“Vere has a lot more snakes hiding amongst the grass than Akielos. Kastor’s followers all but renounced him once you ascended the throne, but my uncle’s men require more coaxing. Do you like them?”

Damen looked down at his hands at Laurent’s abrupt question. He had just been gifted a pair of thick, leather gloves. They were fitting and soft. It seemed strange to wear them indoors, but his body warmed at Laurent’s thoughtfulness.  

“They’re lovely,” Damen answered tenderly. “But couldn’t we have waited until the snow thawed into spring before traversing so far north? I’m sure Berenger could have assisted us if we had decided to stay in Ios.”

Laurent stayed quiet for a moment, and then said, “I don’t imagine I’ll be returning to Arles much after we move the capital to Delpha. I wanted to share something with you. Something I used to do with Auguste.”

Damen let his objections fall away. Laurent was beginning to reveal more about his past, and his childhood with Auguste, and Damen relished every memory Laurent shared of the man. He had taken Auguste away from Laurent, so he would do everything he could to keep his memory alive.

“What is it?”

Laurent led them into one of the inner courtyards. When one of the guards held open the entranceway and a gust of snow entered the palace, Damen stopped walking, shivering. “I hope this plan doesn’t involve me exiting through that door.”

Laurent continued his steady stride, amusement in his voice as he said, “My big, strong Akielon king. Afraid of ice.”

Damen swallowed his retort and sped up his walk, bracing himself for the cold. He immediately tensed when the icy air swept over him. He felt the warmth of the palace disappear, and he felt nothing but the chill wrap around him.

“Look,” Laurent said. He stood off to Damen’s side, pointing.

Damen looked.

It was a tall tree in the middle of the courtyard, all of its leaves discarded, its branches heavy with snow. Perhaps in the fall it would have yielded fruit, but there was nothing there now.

A sudden pain exploded onto Damen’s neck, making Damen recoil from the lingering, sharp tang of _cold_. He turned quickly, anticipating an attack.

And it was. Laurent had a devious smile on his face and another tight ball of snow in his hands, raised high for his next throw.

Damen opened his mouth to protest, but stopped in order to dodge.

“It’s a snowball fight,” Laurent called over the wind, and ducked behind a statue. He re-emerged, armed with another snowball, and threw it, quick.

A fight, Damen could handle.

He bent over and grabbed a fistful of snow. He tossed it, but it blew away into the wind, flurries of snow scattering into the air and back into his face and hair.

Damen heard Laurent’s beautiful, ringing laughter before another snowball hit him, this time slamming into his left ear, making his ears ring. Damen narrowed his eyes and watched as Laurent pressed the snow together, and then moved to dodge. This time, Damen knew how to retaliate. His first snowball shattered on contact, sprinkling Laurent’s fur coat with white speckles.

Laurent threw his head back and laughed. Despite the ice melting onto Damen’s face, the sight of Laurent, youthful, smiling, and happy, made Damen feel warm.

They chased each other around the courtyard, throwing snow like children at play, probably the same way Laurent used to play with Auguste. They ducked behind statues, and swerved around barren trees, pelting each other with snow. Laurent eventually planned a stealth attack and climbed onto a tree just to jump down and land on Damen’s shoulders, unfairly shoving snow into his jacket.

Damen flung Laurent to the ground, startled and vigorously shaking to remove the offending coldness, but the snow melted, leaving him wet and icy from within. Laurent didn’t get up from the ground, instead splaying his limbs out like a starfish and moving through the snow. “Is that your symbol of surrender?” Damen asked.

“I never surrender,” Laurent said. But he looked relaxed on the ground, and Damen wondered if perhaps he was too cold to feel the ice beneath him, or that it just didn’t bother him.

“Come on.” Damen extended a hand out to Laurent. “You’re going to catch a cold.”

Laurent sat up and grabbed his hand. “Auguste used to say the same thing,” he said softly, a small smile on his lips. And then Laurent yanked Damen into the snow. Damen fell into a soft bank of ice and pain and cold, sputtering at Laurent’s continuous betrayal. Laurent smirked, “I used to do the same thing.”

Perhaps it was the look in Damen’s eyes, but Laurent got up and ran, and Damen gave chase him.

Together they rushed back into the warm palace, the snow instantly melting away as they walked side-by-side, trailing puddles in their wake. Servants arrived promptly, offering heated towels and a change of clothes, but Laurent waved them off. They would change in their chambers.

Upon entering their quarters, Damen smelled something odd. Nice, but distinct. Something he’d never encountered before.

“Come,” Laurent said, taking Damen to the fire to warm up. With nimble fingers that didn’t seem affected by the cold, Laurent removed layer after layer of wet clothing, and dropped them onto the floor.

Damen began to do the same. He had gotten very efficient at removing Veretian clothing. “You are a cheat,” Damen commented. Laurent’s clothes did not stick to his skin like they did on Damen. “I did not put snow under your clothes.”

“There are no rules in a fight,” Laurent answered softly. He leaned close, his mouth hovering over Damen’s lips. Damen brought them together and they traded a tender kiss. They pressed themselves together, their cold skin slowly warming by the fire and from sharing each other’s body heat.

When they finally broke free, Damen noted gleefully, Laurent’s lips were swollen.

“Stay here,” Laurent said, and walked away, still naked. Damen obeyed. And watched. Keenly.

Laurent returned carrying two steaming mugs, the source of the strange smell. They must have been placed in the room by their servants just prior to their arrival.

Laurent kicked the wet clothes further from them, and then sat down on the rug before the fireplace. Damen chose to sit behind him, and then with an easy gesture, tugged Laurent up so he sat between Damen’s legs, Laurent’s naked back against Damen’s bare chest.

“What is it?” Damen murmured into the crook of Laurent’s neck. He was sweeping his hands up and down the soft skin of Laurent’s thigh, but Laurent knew what he was talking about.

“Hot chocolate,” Laurent replied. He tilted his head backwards, asking for a kiss which Damen provided. “It was my favorite as a childhood. Paschal would give medicine to Auguste, and I would ask for it too. This was what the palace physician gave me, so I demanded it every night, until Mother ordered the kitchens to stop because I was growing too wide.”

“Did they?”

Laurent quirked his lip. “Auguste would bring it to me.”

“He spoiled you.”

“Yes. If you had arrived in Vere, as a prince of Akielos and an ally, and Auguste still the heir, I would have been… difficult. You may not have liked me.”

“You _are_ difficult, and I like you all the same.” Damen ignored Laurent’s look, and took a sip of the warm drink. It was rich, coating his tongue with an intense flavor. “It’s… good. Bitter, yet sweet. I can imagine why you would have loved it as a child. We have nothing like this in Akielos.” There was a floating white sweetmeat bobbing above the water. Damen took another sip, and its sweetness melted away in his mouth. “I can see why you like it.”

Damen wrapped both arms around Laurent and nuzzled at his hair. His long strands tickled Damen’s neck. Laurent relaxed in Damen’s embrace, his own mug settled on the ground. He was staring at the fire, crackling in the hearth.

“So we’ve been to the Akielon Summer Palace. Here is not so bad, is it? Arles.”

Something made Damen hesitate before replying. Officially this trip to Arles was to weed out the remainder of the Regent’s faction, and to stabilize the Veretian capital before the official move to Delpha. Unofficially, Laurent introduced him to Auguste’s statue. And showed him the library with the tiny corner alcove where Laurent used to read and hide from his tutors. Afterwards Laurent showed Damen a childhood quilt his mother the Queen has made for him.

“Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?” Damen asked gently. “I know _I_ have no love for Arles, but that does not need to be the case for you. It’s your childhood home, just as Ios is mine.”

“Arles is too corrupt. A pit of vipers, there remains too much of my uncles’ influence–”

“I’ve seen the way your people look at you. They had no love for the Regent.” Damen’s thumb had swept across Laurent’s neck, and gently stroked across his sharp collarbone. “If you do not wish to return to Arles again, I understand. But this is where you grew up with Auguste. And you have people here who have always stayed loyal to you. Paschal, Berenger. They will follow you to Delpha, but they don’t have to. We will rule from the center, but Arles will always be here, welcoming you. Your memories of Auguste will live on.”

Laurnet stayed quiet. He picked up his mug and drank. His eyes stayed on the fire. Finally, he said, “A part of me hoped you would hate Arles, after all that has happened. Then I wouldn’t have to decide.”

“I did hate it.” Damen has still not stepped foot in _that_ particular courtyard. “But things are different now. There is a new ruler in Vere, and he’s intelligent. And beautiful. And clever.” Damen punctuated each word with ascending kisses along Laurent’s neck.

“Oh?”

“And so very sweet.” Damen ended it with a kiss on Laurent’s lips. He tasted like chocolate.

“You’d accompany him to Arles, then? This new ruler? Even in winter?”

“I would follow you anywhere.” Damen held him tighter. “But in winter, only if we could be like this by the fire, or in bed, with you in my arms the entire time.”

“That could be arranged.”  Laurent shifted his limbs until he was comfortable, and they sat before fire, drinking, reminiscing, and growing warm in each other’s embrace. Soon Laurent would drift off, and Damen would carry him to bed, but for now, he enjoyed the weight of Laurent in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haven't forgotten about mafia au, just dying from hospital work T.T hope you enjoyed the fluff in the interim


	10. damen is jealous over a child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makedon's daughter makes moves on Damen's husband. 
> 
> aka 'Green is the color of envy - luckily Damen's favorite color is blue'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's mostly crack. I just saw this in my folder, can't even remember when I wrote it, so I thought I'd share

When Damen and Laurent accepted Makedon’s invitation to hunt in Delpha, Damen did not realize Makedon’s twelve year old daughter would be a source of his ire.

It was difficult, pretending to be regal and kingly as he stood there watching Laurent kneel on the dirt to show the gathered children of the kyros and generals alike coin tricks. Nikandros gave him a _look_ and Damen coughed and looked away.

Makedon’s daughter, Leda, in particular, was problematic. She was charmed by Laurent, with his pale skin and funny accent. She seemed to adore his beautiful, long blonde hair, all free-flowing and wind-swept. It framed his radiant blue eyes and Leda trailed after Laurent like she was his new squire. Remarkably, Laurent let her hug his legs, and braid his hair, and it was so unbecoming. Damen didn’t understand why Makedon was letting his daughter misbehave—and why Laurent was letting her invade his personal space.

Laurent was a sovereign, did she not have any lessons in etiquette!

She left flowers in Laurent’s hair, and Damen complained about them as he dutifully removed them during their bath. Laurent just laughed, chiding at him for being jealous of a child.

(Damen began to practice braiding hair on his horse. In secret, of course. If the stable hands suspected anything from the wavy mane the horse retained after he un-did the braid, they perceptively stayed mum.)

It all came to head when Damen and Laurent realized Makedon had perhaps failed to inform his youngest daughter that Laurent was the current King of Vere, and soon to be one of the Kings of the New Artesian Empire.

It was during a feast after a grand hunt, when Leda ran up to the dais with her nursemaid who apologized profusely to the esteemed company. She kissed Makedon on both cheeks and wished her father good night. He gave her a hug and bid her, “Sweet dreams.”

Then, to the surprise of everyone, including Nikandros whose eyebrows shot up his forehead, Leda skipped over to Laurent and kissed him on the cheek too. “When I grow up, let’s get married!” She announced.

Laurent, slowly, touched a hand at his cheek where her lips had brushed. He looked both charmed and dismayed. “Why did you do that, Leda?”

Damen didn’t know why Laurent hadn’t dismissed her already.

Leda continued, “You kissed me last night.”

Ignoring the horrified gasps around the table, Laurent said calmly, “On the forehead. After I read you a Veretian bedtime story.”

Leda nodded, “And you always give me sweetmeats. Father says food counts as a courting gift because my suitor is proving that he can provide for me. And Father already likes you or he wouldn’t have invited you to hunt with him. And I can provide for you too! I will be a strong warrior leading Father’s army. We will have a good family. We _have_ to get married.” She stamped her tiny feet.

Makedon sent a distressed look towards Damen, and then pinched the skin between his eyes. “Leda, why don’t you go to bed now?”

Laurent had a mystified look on his face, like he didn’t know how this had happened, like he was completely unaware how charming and captivating he was. He won over Makedon’s _army_ with five bottles of griva.

Damen was baffled why Laurent hadn’t already told her _no_.

Leda pouted but obeyed. “I’m going to bed then. Can I get a good night kiss?” She said that to Laurent.

Damen was going to challenge her to a duel. Laurent had a considering look on his face, and Damen was not going to ignore that.

Damen took two large strides, picked up Laurent by the waist, pulled him close until their chests were pressed together and gave him a filthy kiss. His tongue plundered Laurent’s mouth, who answered back by fisting the back of Damen’s chiton and tangling his fingers in Damen’s curls. Damen—with a bit of glee—edged his hand lower on Laurent’s waist, ending at the tantalizing curve of Laurent’s ass.

They sprung apart when Nikandros cleared his throat, rather loudly.

When they glanced around the room, Nikandros looked like he wanted to die, Makedon had found his griva very interesting, the nursemaid’s face was flushed, and Leda had very wide eyes.

A little breathlessly Damen noticed proudly, Laurent said, “I’m sorry Leda. I’m already married,” he pointed to Damen, “to him.”

Did Damen puff up his chest just slightly? Given the withering look Nikandros just sent him, he might have.

Leda’s eyes got wider, if that was possible. Her mouth dropped open. “You’re married to the _Exalted!_ Does that mean you’re Exalted, too?” She exclaimed.

Laurent smiled, still a little flushed. “I’m the King of Vere.”

The girl gasped, and cried out, “I tried to steal from the Exalted!” Her eyes welled up in tears as she ran to her father in distress.

Makedon scooped her into his arms and tried to calm her, smoothing his hand down her back and sending apologetic looks to his two kings. He excused himself and walked away with Leda still sniffling in his arms. Nikandros also made his excuses and departed soon after.

Laurent looked unimpressed. He said flatly, “How does it feel to make a twelve year old cry?”

Quite good, if Damen was being honest. But he knew Laurent felt bad, and he felt the slightest twinge of guilt, so he knew that tomorrow they would make their amends. Perhaps buy her a pony and take her riding.

Tonight though, Damen wanted Laurent in his arms. He was going to carry his husband to bed. It was not because he felt threatened by Makedon’s daughter—what nonsense. He was going to because it was his right. And if he wanted to hold his husband in his arms, parading him around the entire castle, it was just because the night breeze would help them sleep better.

All was well, Laurent let him.


	11. soulmate au - crack version

"Yo, go grab some more beer? I'm going to stock up on breakfast for us.” Damen wanders down the freezer aisle, separating from Nikandros.

He’s glancing down the familiar brands, and although slightly distracted by checking his phone, he reaches for the freezer door, just as another hand bumps into his. A warmth floods his body and Damen swears he sees rainbows, just as colors ripple through his skin before settling in on a tattoo—laurels and a starburst?

The hand that touched his now had the same matching tattoo. Damen’s eyes followed the hand that retreated, and was face-to-face with his soulmate. The one person born on this world that was perfect for him. He had the blonde hair that Damen always dreamt of running his hands down, and the piercing blue eyes that glimpsed at him in hazy sleep.

The younger man scowled and somehow looked even more endearing, “We are _not_ telling our families we met buying breakfast burritos.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's complete crack. I just need to clean out my writing folders, and I'll be uploading all my stuff here to keep track.


	12. a slightly more serious soulmark au, but just as short

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to tumsa who got this prompt from one of those generator. I didn't even remember writing this.

“When can we finally tell the press?”

Damen nibbled on Laurent’s shoulder, leaving a vindictive mark because Laurent had prohibited any signs that could not be hidden behind his classic tailored suits.

“So eager to let the world know you’ve captured yourself a Veretian snake?”

“Eager to marry you.” Damen’s response was quick, and resolute. He pressed a kiss to Laurent’s cheek.

Laurent’s face pinked. No matter how many times he had the Crown Prince of Akielos on top of him, under him, inside him, no matter how wild their lovemaking had been, it was always the tender words that rendered him speechless.

 “I love seeing you flushed,” Damen mused. He nudged Laurent’s head so he was facing forward.  

Laurent looked. From the mirror mounted in front of the bed, he could see himself sitting on top of Damen, slowly rolling his hips, riding Damen’s cock. His legs were spread apart, on either side of Damen’s thighs so all of him was exposed to Damen’s heated gaze.

“Why do you have a giant mirror in your room, you conceited ass.”

“Conceited, well yes. I brought it in especially so I could fuck you in front of it.” Damen moved his hand from the possessive grip over Laurent’s hip to wrap around his cock. He squeezed the base of it, a silent warning that their night was not anywhere yet over. Laurent knew he would not get his release soon, and let out a soft sound when Damen thrust up to jostle him. “I want you to watch me take you.”

Damen’s movement revealed a mark that was hidden to all but the royal family of Vere, and now Damen. Damen had his matching mark on his back but he loved nothing more than holding Laurent’s mark during lovemaking, his tangible claim over their bond.

Laurent’s skin was soft and unmarred, except for the soulmate mark that tied him to Damen. The crowned lion insignia of the royal family of Akielos, but behind it was the sunburst banner that belonged to Vere. It was the symbol that would tie together the two kingdoms, whose violent history together was tenuously abated by a weak treaty built out of necessity in the modern day. But soon, they would have more than just a signed paper symbolizing their unity.

“When we tell the world, _this_ doesn’t become just ours anymore. We will under the scrutiny of our countries.” Laurent took Damen’s hand into his own, locking eyes with him through the mirror’s reflection. “Let me have _us_ for a moment longer.”


	13. smaurent gets tricked into gardening feat. honey and Auguste

Darrell was one of the finest gardeners in the employ of the crown. He knew his flowers, and whipped his gardens into beautiful displays appropriate for the eyes of the royal court. He was honored by his esteemed role in the beauty of the palace and he knew every inch and nook and cranny of the Eastern Gardens, and he had planted purple dahlias for the Queen so she could take them in under the morning light, glistening from the morning dew. Yes, dahlias here, and larkspurs adjacent and--wait. 

_ Where were his dahlias? _

Darrell inspected closer,  and saw it.  _ Treason _ ! Someone had dared rip off flowers from the royal gardens, stealing from the Queen herself! He stared in shock and horror at the broken stem, his heart beginning to pound. Who was this thief with this audacity. Were they still here? How did they gain access to the gardens? Were they trying to steal more? The Queen’s gems must be next!

He heard mumbling, and the movement of bushes being parted and Darrell gave chase. He would not let this thief escape. They were probably trampling all over his red creeping thyme!

He walked toward the noise and turned the corner and there he was, hunched over short like some tiny gremlin, dressed in bright blue and gold brocade, trying to blend in with the riches of the palace but Darrell knew!  Oh wait. That messily shorn blonde hair--there had been in incident in the bath with shears which by the time Crown Prince Auguste arrived, resulted in young Prince Laurent looking something akin to his shaggy pony. Or so Darrell heard. He did not gossip about his princes.

Prince Laurent was on his knees in the dirt, pulling at another dahlia, a pile of his criminal activity by his side.

“Prince Laurent!” Darrell cried, because he couldn't get angry, not when his tiny prince turned to him, golden hair gleaming in the light, with a bright smile and dirt on his cheeks. 

“Good morning!” The prince replied politely with a bit of a lisp because he was missing a tooth but even that was disarmingly adorable. 

Darrell felt his anger drain away, and he dropped down to  the ground so the prince did not hurt his neck looking up at him. “Why have you plucked off these flowers, my prince?”

“Mother said they were her favorite. I'm going to bring them to her so she can see it without leaving her bed!” 

Ah. “But...my prince. Queen Hennike is at Chastillon. She won't be back until the fortnight.”

“It’s okay! I'll leave them in her room and she'll be surprised when she walks in! Auguste does that whenever he gives me presents!”

Yes. She'll be very surprised indeed. “My prince...if I may suggest something even better for the Queen…”

 

-

 

Auguste walked into the gardens looking for his little brother. The meeting with councilors dragged longer than he liked and he had left Laurent in the gardens because his mother had remarked that Laurent was spending too much time in the library and a young boy needed more sun.

He found Laurent on the grass among the flowers, pulling, and Auguste walked a little faster because old man Darrell was known to be very protective of his garden. He called out, “Laurent.”

“Auguste!” Laurent ran over and hugged his knees. Auguste ignored that his trousers were now soiled with grass stains. 

“Why are you tearing up the gardens, Laurent?” Auguste tried to use a stern tone but he was certain failed. There was always a fondness when he addressed his younger brother. “Don’t you know our gardeners work very hard to keep it beautiful for us? If Darrell sees you,  he will tell Father.”

“He told me to!”

“Father?”

“Mister Darrell! He said I was doing something very important called,” Laurent wrinkled his nose as he searched for the word, “ _ weeding _ .” 

“Weeding,” Auguste repeated. 

“Yes! He said it’s a game. And I should rip out as much as I can. Do you want to join me? I'm winning!” Laurent ran back to his pile of limp dandelions and smiled. 

Auguste walked after Laurent at a more sedate pace, pondering if he should chastise the old gardener for fooling the prince, or award for that stroke of genius. Laurent was very competitive and the gardens were very vast. It would certainly keep him occupied until the Queen returned. 

“He also said if I asked realllllllllllllllly nicely, the cooks can make this into honey and then we can give it to Mother. How does this turn into honey?  There are no bees. I checked.”

Auguste chuckled and ruffled Laurent’s hair. He had no idea. So he did what he usually did when Laurent was too inquisitive and he didn’t want to ruin the illusion of being the wise all-knowing older brother--he changed the topic. “Did Darrell tell you the greatest secret about dandelions?” Laurent looked at him with wide, innocent eyes, and Auguste lowered his voice to a whisper. “They can grant wishes.” 

Laurent’s eyes opened impossibly wider. “Wow…” he whispered in response. 

Auguste decided his trousers were dirtied regardless and sat down on the ground beside his brother. He picked up one of the young dandelions, with a bloom of wispy white seeds still atop. “Here. Make a wish, and blow. When all the seeds fly away, your wish has been heard.” 

Laurent grabbed for the flower with his tiny hands, and Auguste relinquished it. His little brother put on a serious face as he puffed up his cheeks, closed his eyes, and then blew as hard as he could.

He huffed and puffed, but a few seeds clung stubbornly to the flower, and Laurent turned to him with wet eyes. 

“It’s okay, little brother. We shall do another one. I will make a wish too.” Auguste retrieved another flower and held it in front of Laurent. 

“Okay!” Laurent smiled wide and grasped onto the flower stem. Together, they bowed their heads, and made a wish. 

Auguste wished that his little brother would always be happy, and as Laurent grabbed the rest of the dandelions and marched off to the kitchens still covered in grass stains but with the dignity of a boy prince, Auguste thought that perhaps his wish had already come true. 

 

-

 

Laurent rocked on his heels back and forth, his hands cradling the empty jar. His flowers were in the pot, and he could not wait. Mother had loved it when he gifted it to her--she loved it so much, she let him have the entire thing. Mother always said that everything she loved would one day to go him.

Madam Johanne was stirring the pot and Laurent liked that she would give him sweetmeats as he waited, so he always waited with her. She had a son too--but he wasn’t very good at making honey. He probably couldn’t ride either. Laurent could ride, and he beat Auguste all the time. He had a very fast pony. 

Laurent told this to Madam Johanne and she laughed, and let him lick the spoon. It was so yummy. “I’m going to give this jar to my pony,” he said.  

She took the spoon and the jar from his hands, and gave him a big apple instead. “I think your pony would like this more, Prince Laurent.” She spooned the honey into the jar, but did not give it yet because it was still hot, but she put some of the fresh honey onto a biscuit and let Laurent munch on it as he sat on the counter, kicking his legs. 

“My prince, you must promise not to finish all of it so quickly. It will ruin your appetite and we are planning your favorites for dinner,” Madam Johanne said when she finally gave the jar to Laurent. 

“I promise!” Laurent said, and then he runs off, carrying his tiny jar of honey. He would stop by his pony to give him the apple. And then he would find Auguste. Maybe they would go riding together, and when Auguste lost, Laurent would share his honey. This would make Auguste less sad because he was not as good of a rider as Laurent. 

But when he arrived, he learned that Auguste was in yet another meeting. It’s alright, perhaps he should do more weeding. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't remember when I wrote this one either. I did have plans for a smutty sequel according to my notes....something that involved Damen and honey... maybe one day.


	14. damen and laurent play with an vegetable inappropriately

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So we were playing Capri Cards Against Humanity, and Cynthia goes "What is figging i don't even know"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't know what figging is, please look it up to make sure it's not something you'll be squicked by. I was not a very good friend bc my immediate reaction was "hehe JUST YOU WAIT AND FIND OUT" 
> 
> tags: figging, power dynamics, no real plot. literally, there is no story.

“Do you think you can handle it? You can still apologize,” Damen said, his fingers petting around Laurent’s rim. He said it with a casual flair, as if the King of Vere was not spread across his lap, trembling as Damen played with him.

Laurent stayed silent. He had nothing to apologize for.

Damen sighed, “As I expected. I’ll have to force it out from you then.” His oiled fingers took another dip into Laurent’s hole, making sure there was enough room. Laurent was still loose from their morning’s love-making, and his fingers slid in smoothly. With his other hand, he retrieved the, a small piece of peeled ginger, still sharply aromatic. He spread Laurent’s cheeks and, rather delicately, tucked it in.

Laurent stiffened at the insertion, but as the odd piece of Akielon root settled within him, he felt as if all the preparation and Damen’s boasting had been exaggerated. “I’m underwhelmed,” Laurent drawled, shifting to get more comfortable on Damen’s lap like a pertinent pet.

Damen just hummed, as he squeezed the pert mounds of Laurent’s ass, pressing the cheeks together.  He waited, and in the next moment, Laurent tensed. The stinging began, as juices from the ginger began to burn.

“What--” Laurent gasped just as Damen slapped his palm against his bottom. Pain erupted onto him as the burn from the inside matched the heat from within. The pain didn’t cease, only growing more. “Damen--”

Damen’s palm came once more, and the pain was exploding on his bottom. A beautiful red blush blossomed across Laurent’s pale skin. Beautiful. Damen hit him again.

Laurent was fighting now, trying to squirm away, and reaching behind and remove that cursed root. He felt as his insides were on fire, but every movement only rubbed the flames against his insides more. Damen was holding him down with arm and Laurent could not move away. Another smack. It jostled the root to brush against the most sensitive part of him and Laurent sobbed. It hurt.

Somewhere between the pain, he could feel the heat growing in his lower abdomen. He was seeing stars. It was a sensation like no other, pain mixed with pleasure, and all he could feel was fire.

“I’m sorry,” Laurent gasped. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes, the burn was consuming him from within. He was willing to say anything now for Damen to remove the ginger. “I’m sorry!”

Damen smoothed a gentle hand over the enflamed skin, his soft touch not unlike earlier that morning. But when he spoke, Laurent knew it wasn’t over. “I thought you were going to count along. If you aren’t, then you might as well put that mouth to better use.”

Laurent was keenly aware of Damen’s hard cock poking against his abdomen. Damen’s hold loosened, until Laurent could scramble off his lap and lower himself between his legs instead. He reached behind to remove the ginger, his mind solely focused on that one goal, when Damen tilted his face up to look at him.

“No. Only when I get my release. If you want it out, you better work fast.” Damen’s cock was in front of him, hard and waiting.

Damen brought heat, and power, and it was all-consuming. Laurent let his words wash over him, drowning away the burning, ache of the flame inside him. With tears in his eyes, Laurent lowered his mouth, and obeyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cynthia decided to offering this conclusion bc my ending was mean:  
> "Laurent sucked very hard and damen came within two seconds. Then Damen took the root out and Laurent was fine."
> 
> (just FYI, according to wiki, 'this method of physical punishment was first used as a form of discipline on female slaves in Ancient Greece' 
> 
> so, historical accuracy really. )


	15. laurent's failed assassination attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> via Capri Discord's telephone game # 6, read the entire thing with all the other artists/authors contributions [here](https://capri-discord.tumblr.com/post/176162287694/the-latest-telephone-game-of-the-capri-discord-is)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just more snippets as I try to keep track of my writing; written in 30 min, unbeta-ed, unedited

Damen stared down at the beautiful young man beneath him. Damen’s hands were wrapped around his throat, hard enough to stop him from moving, or speaking. The man tried to buck up, to scramble for the dagger that had skidded away from him, but Damen had straddled on top of him with his full weight, rendering him immobile. 

“Who are you?” Damen demanded. He lightened his hold on the man’s throat just enough so he could breathe, and the man gasped for air. 

There was no reply, the man stubbornly stayed silent, turning his head away. Damen narrowed his eyes. The man was in no position to disobey, yet he did not feel the need to give an answer. Damen had his suspicions, they were in the heart of Delpha, and not more than seven years had passed since the territory was rightfully reclaimed under Akielos. This was not the first time Damen had dispatched of an untoward assassin who would quickly discover that Damianos of Akielos was not so easy to kill. 

But this was the first time an assassin had tried to seduce him the guise of a young tavern boy. He was undeniably beautiful with golden hair that had caught his attention the moment he entered the inn. Damen’s retinue had easily secured the best table for him by the fireplace, and the tavern boy had immediately known which patron to offer his nightly services. He circled their table multiple times, offering roasted meats and ale. When Damen had asked for his name, he had smiled and shied away. 

He wore a short chiton of simple white cotton, and was unabashedly paraded around the room knowing full well where Damen’s eyes lingered. He adorned no gems, but his blue eyes shone like sapphires in the warm firelight. He was beautiful, and Damen wanted him. They had not gotten far into their evening though, when the man slipped a piece of bread in his mouth, and slid out the dagger from beneath the place. Damen had caught his wrist before the blade drew close. 

Nikandros burst in, having heard the commotion. He surveyed the room quickly, the overturned chair, platters of dinner on the table. The tavern boy had coyly suggested bringing his meal up to him, that he would feed him for additional coin. Damianos had never paid for a bedtime partner before, not when he had slaves awaiting his favor, but he found himself intrigued, and had ignored the looks of dismay from his kyros. No doubt Damen would receive some words from his kyros at lowering his guard. 

“Your reputation precedes you, your highness,” Nikandros said as he looked at Damen still sitting on top of the assassin. A few more soldiers came in behind him, swords unsheathed. 

Damen looked at the young man’s blonde hair, and wondered if Nikandros thought  _ now _ was the time to berate him about his tastes. But then Damen followed Nikandros’s line of sight, and realized he wasn’t addressing him. 

“We received reports that you disappeared from Arles. Never thought we’d see you here, Prince Laurent.” Nikandros turned to give orders to his men. “The Prince of Vere has attacked the Crown Prince, seize him.”   

  
  



	16. Damen and Laurent's failed engagement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from telephone #7 from the Capri Discord. The full one will be posted soon, blog for discord [here](https://capri-discord.tumblr.com/)

 

They talked. Of whispers of hidden armies to the west, of the plotting in the shadows, and of Damen’s betrothed now locked away awaiting trial in the morning. There would be yet another engagement fallen to ruins. 

The only thing that went unspoken of was their own brief engagement. How uncanny, Laurent smiled at the sudden thought. 

Damen looked at him, and the uncharacteristic twitch of his lips. 

“Imagine if the guards came in now, I’m in your room in the middle of the night, my jacket nowhere to be seen, while you’re betrothed to another.” 

Damen released a bitter chuckle. He too could see the cruel irony of their situation. “It seems I do not have very much luck in my attempts at securing a courtship.” 

“No, you were very good at that,” Laurent murmured before he could stop himself. He could still remember the arrival of the ambassadors, with Damen at the forefront of the envoy. 

He hadn’t imagined then that Damen would sweep him from his reading nook in the library to ride the wild fields of Arles, and they would be soon telling stories under the gentle shades of the large maples escaping the forsaking sun. They would find refuge at a lake in the forest, where Damen persuaded him to strip of his layers and go for a swim. There were nightly games of chess, and letters ferried by couriers, delivered in the morning with breakfast. Not too long after, Damen announced his intentions to court him. As summer came to an end, their engagement had been secured. 

And by winter, Damen was engaged to the Princess of Kempt. 

Damen tightened his fist. Everything came back to that, a drugged drink, and a timely discovery. 

Sensing the tension in the room, Laurent changed his tone to something less forlorn. What they had was something ruined. It was brief, it would be easy to move on. “Third time’s a charm. That could be the next scandal, the two princes of Akielos fighting for the hand of Torveld’s niece. Bazal would be eager for the alliance.” 

Damen gazed at him, his eyes dark. “Do not be cruel.” 

Laurent leaned a bit closer to Damen’s bare chest, where the scratch from the blade had left a trail of dried blood. He pressed his thumb into the cut, as he asked, “Am I ever?” 

Damen winced and grabbed him by the wrist. “There are no apologies I can make, but perhaps there is a wrong I can right. The trial will prove that my engagement was a farce. We can go back.” 

“We can go back? Shall I push you down onto the bed and ravage you? And in the heat of the moment, call in the guards?” Laurent did not pull his hand from Damen’s hold, instead he looked at Damen impassively. None of his words could relay the bitterness he had felt when news of Damen’s betrayal reached him. Auguste had threatened to raise their banners for the infidelity, the slight on his honor. Laurent had thought he had burned away all those feelings just as he burned away everything Damen had given him, but the flame was still lit, and feeling Damen’s gaze made him feel heated.  

“Why not?” Damen was so earnest, it made Laurent feel weak. “I have already made two mistakes--one by not fighting for you, fighting for my innocence. The second was agreeing to marry Alyosha on false pretenses. I do not intend to make a third.” 

Damen lifted Laurent’s hand and pressed his fingers to his lips, not unlike the first time he did it in an outing beside a field of lavender. “Let me right this wrong. I, Damianos, will not let you slip away so easily again.” 

“What if I decided I wanted to? If I chose to accept Torveld’s offer?” 

Damen turned his head away and his grip on Laurent’s hand twitched, as if he wanted to let go, or squeeze tighter, but could not decide. 

“I do not have the power to control your heart, but I like to believe I can read it. You are not ready to forget what we once had. I am the same.” 

Laurent hated that Damen was right. Once it made him feel flushed that someone, a foreign suitor from Akielos could read him as easily as Auguste, but now it was a weakness and Laurent did not like to lose. He hated that Alyosha was the last one to touch Damen, to mark him, and now they were left with the tattered ruins of what was once something bright and beautiful. 

Before he could be rational, Laurent pushed Damen back, until he hit the bed and pushed him down. He climbed on top, bracing his legs at Damen’s sides, and kissed him.

Damen did not hesitate, immediately wrapping him arms around his waist and returned the kiss. He kissed him deeply, pressing their lips together with the fervor that relayed the longing of a season lost. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said repeatedly, pressing their foreheads together, holding him so close, perhaps in disbelief that after all this, he could still have Laurent in his arms, and that if he let go, he would wake up and it would be a dream. 

“You will be,” Laurent said. He took another moment to assess their position, he was sitting on top of Damen, his hair and clothes in disarray, and Damen was on the bed, his chest bare, his arousal not lacking. Good. “I’m going to call in the guards.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I'll stop writing small snippets. Good news though! I'll be writing mafia AU for the Capri Big Bang :) so unless I drop out, let's hope I can somehow produce 25k for it.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://dragonmage27.tumblr.com/). Prompts welcome!. I can't guarantee that I will be able to write it in a timely fashion but feel free to send me some inspiration!


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